


Roses and Mint

by meerkat2020



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullenlingus, Cunnilingus, F/M, I've got a plot to go along but it's being rather elusive, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, for now at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6670195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meerkat2020/pseuds/meerkat2020
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless Smut featuring Cullen Rutherford, introducing one of my many, many Inquisitors: Farren Lavellan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses and Mint

Cullen downed another shot of bourbon as he looked out at the dance floor from his seat at the bar, his eyes falling upon a long-legged woman with raven hair that swished around her waist as she danced. He kept looking back at her, even as he nursed another drink, alone as usual. He wasn’t sure why he continued to let Dorian drag him to clubs every Friday night. Inevitably, the Tevinter would abandon Cullen, dance the entire night, and then leave with whatever man he’d wooed that night. And Cullen would call a cab home, too drunk to drive, without anyone to warm his bed or make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit in the middle of the night.

She looked toward the bar and their eyes met. Cullen felt like lightning had struck his spine as her pale eyes stayed on him, darkened with desire. A man was dancing with her, his hands all over her body, but Cullen was completely enraptured by the heat in her gaze, her fixation on him.

And then, as the song morphed into another pounding pop song, she broke away from the crush of dancers and headed toward the bar, still watching him. Cullen swallowed hard as his eyes roved up her body, from the black heels she wore to the tight, maroon dress that hugged her curves like a needy boyfriend. For a moment, she was all he saw. Until the guy she’d been dancing with followed her, grabbing her hand casually.

Cullen turned away quickly. He was not here for a confrontation with a clingy boyfriend. He was here to feel sorry for himself and to pine for girls who were out of his league entirely, and to get positively smashed. Not always in that order.

“Can you not?” Cullen heard the woman say. He glanced over his shoulder as she sat about seven seats down from him. The guy she was with had his arm around her and she shrugged it off.

“Sure, baby,” the guy said, a slur to his voice, and settled his hand on her tawny thigh instead. She made a disgusted noise and shoved his hand off. The man gave her a look as he ordered them drinks. “What’s that about?”

“I barely know you,” she told him sternly. “And I’m not interested. I left the dance floor for a reason. Please leave me alone.”

“Baby--” the guy started, but the woman cut him off.

“I am not your baby!” she snapped, standing up, and he stood up, too, grabbing her arm. Cullen saw the woman flinch and noticed just how tight the man was holding her.

“Let’s go dance,” he decided, voice icy.

Before he knew was he was doing, Cullen was standing up and crossing over to where the woman was trying to break free, without much success. Cullen squared his shoulders and looked down at the man trying to herd the woman back onto the dance floor. The creep, nearly a head shorter than Cullen, looked back at him, flexing slightly as his grip on the woman loosened. She pulled away and nearly stumbled against Cullen, but regained her footing.

“She said she’s not interested,” Cullen said firmly. “Leave her alone.”

“The fuck are you?” the guy asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, you know, just the average guy who doesn’t like to see women get pushed around by creeps like you,” Cullen growled, taking a step closer. The other man seemed to waver, then took a few steps away, flipping Cullen off as he returned to the dance floor.

“Thanks,” the woman said slowly as Cullen turned to face her. “But I could’ve managed myself.”

“I’m sure you could’ve, but I don’t think the custodian would enjoy mopping up blood stains later,” Cullen said, smiling slightly. The tattoo on her shoulder blade of a bow crossed with a leafy plant of some sort, perhaps a fern branch, had not escaped his attention. She was Dalish--the gang was well known throughout Thedas for its members who seemed impossibly delicate, but were actually dangerous and usually deadly.

The woman smiled slowly, her red-painted lips curving alluringly. He felt himself smile in return, feeling at ease and rather buzzed. She had other tattoos, too, on her exposed arms and legs. A bird, a jellyfish, a red lightning bolt, a music note, a moth, a moon, a star, the sun, a pineapple, a lotus, a heart rate line, and the phases of the moon. Cullen wondered idly if she had more under her dress, but quickly chased away such thoughts.

“Are you here with someone?” the woman asked him, looking up at him through thick, dark lashes.

“Ah--just a friend,” Cullen responded. “He’s probably getting the living daylights fucked out of him.”

The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he’d thought to check them. He felt his face heat and looked away, cursing the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. Usually, when he went out with Dorian, he didn’t actually end up talking to anyone he thought was attractive. Hence, he didn’t have to worry about chasing them away or creeping them out.

But the woman just laughed. “Sounds like my friend, too. Maybe they’re fucking each other.”

Cullen shrugged. “With my luck, they probably are.”

“And what sort of luck is that?” the woman prompted, subtly shifting closer to Cullen.

“The sort that I think is drastically improving,” he replied, meeting her eyes. Maker’s breath, he was starting to thank the alcohol he’d been drinking; he was never this smooth sober. “I’m Cullen.”

“Nice to meet you, Cullen. Let’s see how lucky you get,” the woman purred, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the exit.

Cullen felt his pulse racing. He hadn’t taken a woman home in...well, a long time. Not that he hadn’t wanted to. He just...it wasn’t easy. Though it seemed that casual dalliances were all that he could imagine having room in his life for. Withdrawal and anxiety disorders were not things you just  _ dumped _ on someone. So one-night-stands it was, for better or for worse.

***

The taxi ride to his apartment was brief--though maybe that was because this woman couldn’t keep her hands off him. It was difficult to make out while constrained by seat belts (safety first), but she made it happen. She cupped his face to direct it toward hers, her soft lips on his but with a hunger, a fervor that left Cullen breathless as his hands found her hips and his nails dug into the fabric of her dress.

Typically, with an audience--because the cab driver was  _ definitely _ eyeing them in his rearview mirror--Cullen would be  _ much _ more reserved. As in, he would not be engaging in this at all if he knew people were watching. But there was something about this woman, this woman whose name he didn’t even know, that made his brain short-circuit somewhat. Of course, the alcohol might have had a hand in that as well.

Cullen paid the cabbie quickly, counting out crisp bills distractedly as the woman trailed kisses down his neck, nipping at his collarbone. They stumbled out of the taxi and into the cool autumn air, the moon full above them as it bathed the urban scene in a pale light, which was drowned out by the yellowish glare from the streetlamps lining the sidewalk.

The keys were harder to deal with than the money, and he dropped them several times when the woman would start to grind against his thigh or pull his hair gently or bite his earlobe softly. Finally, though, he managed to get into the building--climbing the two flights of stairs to his flat, and getting into the flat itself, would provide its own challenges.

“Creators,” the woman hissed when she saw the stairs Cullen was heading to. “Is there, like, a broom closet we can commandeer for the evening?”

Cullen laughed, a deep rumble, watching as she took off her heels and grabbed his hand again. Her wide hips swayed enticingly as she raced up the stairs with him stumbling to keep up. He pulled her to a stop at his door and unlocked it before she could begin her assault on him again. The door swung open and she was on him again as he closed it. Without any prying eyes and in the solitude of his apartment, Cullen focused his attention fully on this woman.

He slid his hands down her sides, squeezing her ample arse before pressing her against the door and hoisting her up. She gasped in surprise, but wrapped her legs around his hips anyway, grinding her core against the arousal hardening steadily in his trousers. He moaned in response, biting the woman’s lower lip, noticing markings on the inside of it, before leaning in toward her pierced ear and asking with a husky whisper, “I didn’t quite catch your name before. What is it?”

“Farren,” she panted, carding her fingers through his hair and pulling him back to her lips. He obliged eagerly, sliding his tongue into her mouth and reveling in the sweet and salty taste of her, tinged with whatever she’d been drinking at the club.

He pressed her closer as he moved away from the door, navigating the way to his bedroom by memory, his eyes rather preoccupied by the beauty in his arms. There was quite a bit of stumbling, a few curses, a lot of giggling and laughing, until they finally collapsed backwards onto Cullen’s bed, Farren on top. She straddled him, grinding against Cullen mercilessly and he moaned loudly, hands moving to her shoulders to slide the straps of the dress down, fingertips just brushing her skin, making her shiver. Cullen heard her suck in her breath at the sensation and she started to trail kisses down his jaw and neck, biting and sucking and licking as she did.

Then Cullen flipped them over so she was pinned beneath him, her gray eyes nearly black with desire. They fluttered shut as Cullen slid her dress further down her body, revealing her bare breasts.  _ Maker’s breath _ ...He lowered his face to her chest and licked a circle around her left nipple, watching her mouth fall open with a quiet, breathy moan. He sucked on it and even grazed it gently with his teeth, which made Farren buck up against him and cling to him. He then moved to her right nipple, lavishing it with the same attentions.

“Cullen…” Farren moaned as she slid a hand between them, toward her center. “Fuck me already.”

Her words went straight to his cock. He grabbed her wrist and directed it away from her sex and to his instead, and she hummed pleasantly as she fondled him through the fabric of his jeans. He tensed as she unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down  _ agonizingly _ slowly, fingers barely brushing the bulge tenting his boxers. He groaned and sighed in relief as Farren started working his trousers and boxers down, and Cullen lifted his hips from hers to help. As soon as they were gone, he tore his shirt off, watching how Farren’s eyes widened as she took him in from head to toe.

“Creators…” she whimpered. He was tan, muscled, and lean, covered in faded scars that made her sex throb. She wanted him to fill her completely, to take her over and over, to leave her marked as his, even if it was only for a night.

Farren shucked off her dress along with her soaked panties, tossing them over the edge of the bed and pulled Cullen down for another searing kiss, her hands roaming over his toned chest. She liked the way he tasted. She could taste alcohol, but also something underneath it that sent little chills up and down her spine.

Her breath was taken away again as Cullen’s hand cupped her sex, making her moan wantonly and pressed closer to his touch. He slid a finger between her folds, pumping slowly, experimentally, her nails digging into the muscled flesh of his shoulders. He added another finger and used his thumb to rub her clit, making Farren whimper.

Cullen pumped his fingers into her core, watching her face as he did so. She rolled her hips to meet his hand, her fingers tangling in his hair as she moaned his name into his lips as they kissed. Then he was pulling back and Farren keened for him, eyes widening as he brought his hand to his lips and licked his fingers slowly, not breaking eye contact.

“Oh, fuck me already,” Farren moaned. “I want you, Cullen, I want you inside me. I want to make you feel good, too--”

Cullen cut her off with a hard kiss, then started trailing kisses down her body. He studied each of her tattoos as he passed them: under her right breast, a ribbon that read  _ The Dawn Will Come _ ; a rose on her left hip and an aravel on her right one. He skipped over her drenched sex, the scent intoxicating, and bit the inside of her thigh gently, over the tattoo there of a peach that had a ribbon wrapped around it reading  _ Peachy Keen _ .

Farren fisted her hands in Cullen’s curls and urged him with her knees to redirect his attention northward. With a grin, he obliged, licking her folds slowly with the flat of his tongue. Her legs tensed and she whimpered her approval, nodding as she muttered in another language, the words lilting off her tongue and reminding Cullen of the almost painful erection between his legs. Maker, her voice was entrancing.

Holding her hips in place, Cullen slid his tongue into her, listening to her heavy panting. He sucked her bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and grazing his teeth against it. Farren locked her thighs around Cullen’s face and ground her hips into his face. She cried out as he slid another finger into her sex, pumping it in and out as he sucked her clit. Within moments, Farren went rigid against Cullen, her nectar flooding his face as she screamed his name. Then she went lax, stroking Cullen’s hair with shaky fingers as she fought to catch her breath.

Cullen pressed a kiss to Farren’s lips, and she could taste herself on him. They kissed slowly, her arms around Cullen’s shoulders, until she pulled back. “Cullen,” she murmured, rubbing a circle into his shoulder with her thumb. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me senseless. Make me come again, Cullen, and again and again…”

She trailed off as Cullen reached between them to grab his rigid cock and lined it up with Farren’s sex. He kept eye contact with her as he teased her folds, then slid slowly into her, inch by glorious inch, until Farren threw her head backwards with a moan.

“Oh, yes Cullen, fill me,” she moaned against his lips, pulling lightly on his hair. “Your cock feels so good, Cullen.”

Her quiet, lewd whispers spurred him on to move, slowly at first, watching Farren’s face for any indication of pain or discomfort. Then he started to pump at a faster pace, watching the way Farren’s breasts bounced in time with his thrusts, his fingers pressing into her hips with bruising force. The sounds of their bodies slapping together mingled with Farren’s moans and Cullen’s grunts.

Farren kissed the side of Cullen’s neck, biting and sucking until she left a great, big hickey there. He bent closer so he could do the same to her as he continued to thrust unrelentingly into her, feeling his climax build with his pleasure. Farren’s breath started coming in short pants now, her nails raking down Cullen’s back, the pain positively divine.

“Oh, Farren,” Cullen moaned. “Farren, Farren,  _ Farren _ …”

Cullen moved his hands to Farren’s breasts, kneading and rubbing them as he whispered words of adoration into her ear, voice husky. Farren bucked up to meet Cullen’s thrusts, feeling the hot coil in her gut coming undone. She moaned and moaned again, his name mixed up with a few of her gods’ as well, and she bit his shoulder hard as she came before collapsing underneath him, clinging to his shoulders still. Her sex was still clenching and unclenching spasmodically around his length, and he came with a growl, spilling his hot seed inside her. He pumped a few more times before pulling out slowly, dropping down next to Farren, utterly spent.

Slowly, their breathing returned to a normal pace. Farren turned to face Cullen, her eyes half-lidded as she touched the scar bisecting his lip. “That was...amazing,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

Cullen smiled and pressed a quick kiss to her soft lips and threw an arm around her, pulling her closer. “Thank  _ you _ .”

Farren smiled up at him briefly. “I have to be up early tomorrow,” she told him, whispering for no apparent reason. She’d just been loud enough that she was  _ sure _ the entire building had heard them. But she felt like she had to keep her voice low.

Cullen nodded. “I understand. The bathroom’s down the hall, feel free to use the shower. And I probably have some clothes you could borrow, if you like.”

“Is that your way of getting me to come back?” Farren asked. “I’ll have to return your clothes?”

“I can think of other ways to get you to come back,” Cullen murmured, his hand moving to cup her bottom. “Keep the clothes if you like.”

“You’re a real charmer, Cullen,” she said, kissing his lips before turning away from him, pressing back against his chest. “Goodnight.”

***

Cullen awoke to an empty bed, the sheets cool. He got up and stretched, the night before coming back to him in flashes as a headache formed behind his eye. He pulled on his boxers before leaving his room.

The bathroom light was on, but it was empty, the walls of the shower covered in beads of water that hadn’t yet evaporated. His towel was wet but hung neatly to dry, along with the mat on the floor. She’d used his toothbrush, too, he noticed with a slight smile.

In the kitchen, everything was as it usually was, except that there was half a pot of coffee sitting on the counter, still hot. He poured himself a mug, adding no sugar or milk. He looked around, but it was almost as if Farren had never been there. He searched for a note and found a crumpled receipt that looked like someone had struggled to straighten it out. In neat handwriting it said,  _ Thank you, Cullen, last night was wonderful. I wish I could see you again, but we really can’t continue this. My life is too damn complicated to bring someone new into it, and I’m sure you’ve got your own issues. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again. I don’t know. It’s honestly safer if we don’t. Whatever. _

Cullen reread the hastily-written note, not believing her words. He sighed. He knew he had too much shit going on in his life to drag someone else into it, and obviously she had her own stuff going on, too. Going into this, he  _ knew _ it would likely be a one-night-stand. But that didn’t stop the feeling of hurt to squeeze his heart.

He tossed the note into a drawer in his room before sinking onto the bed. He rubbed his face and tried to ignore the scent of roses and mint in the room. Her smell.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. I'm a bit rusty with smut, haven't written any in a long while, but I hope that was okay? Let me know what you think!
> 
> Anywayyyy. I know I usually write about my Inquisitor Violet with Cullen, but I wanted a break. Also, this started out as a weird idea for a plot that is being kinda hard to hammer out. So for now, this is a one-shot. Hopefully, however, in the near future I'll be able to actually figure out a plot and this will become a multi-chapter angst fest :)
> 
> Un-Beta'd. I love kudos/comments dearly. My tumblr is pansexualanarchist.


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